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Hello everyone, thanks for coming! This is my blog, it's where I largely write about things that maybe 3 people read, but I do it anyway because they matter. Have a flick through, read ones with interesting titles, and check by every once in a while and see if there's any more. You can also follow me on twitter at @MikePasquale or you can visit my website which has got all my illustration on it: www.smash-rockets-to-mars.co.uk

Anyway, thanks again, and hope you enjoy your reading!
Mike

Friday 15 August 2014

Blog 143: Elm Street Smarts

I don't really have dreams very often, but I do enjoy having them because they're so weird, and I was told that keeping a dream journal helps you to remember them when you wake up. But what's the point in keeping a dream journal if nobody reads it, I hear you ask. Well, the same reason I keep a blog even though nobody reads it. Because what else am I supposed to do now that the internet has grinded away at my life until all that was left was twitter and sometimes this blog.

So here's the first of, if this theory of dream journaling works, a few blogs about what happened in my dream last night. I'll skip out all the ones where I'm on dates with Jennifer Lawrence because for the sake of this activity, it should be assumed about 3 of those happen per night, and occasionally in lectures or when I'm driving to work.

So last night I had two that I can remember, the first being mega exciting. I was on a weekend away with my old church, but with some people from my new church too, and my friends and I decided we'd go out on a motorbike. Our weekend away wasn't in the usual location of somewhere near Milton Keynes but was, instead, in the middle of a desert wasteland somewhere. Eventually, I suppose, you run out of things to do if you always go to the same place, even Milton Keynes.



Ok. Especially Milton Keynes.

Anyway, one thing that apparently happens in the desert, according to my night-brain, is that it gets dark really quickly, and you can't drive back in the dark. So we had to run back. The problem being is that the bike got left in the desert, and the desert at night is full of massive spiders.

How would our brave protagonist get through this quagmire of a problem? By now the audience would have been hooked, as I'm sure you are. 

We returned to the place we were staying, and told my friend and colleague/sort of boss the situation. A lady overheard and suggested we borrowed her truck to go pick it up. It was a sensible idea, but dream brains don't really 'get' sensible. So we ignored it.

Everyone tried to persuade me just to go and getting, but I hate spiders and was too terrified so I didn't. (Remember, this is a dream. I'm sure in real life I would have heroically fought back the arachnid aberrations and rescued that bike, along with a random hot piece of damsel).

In the end, My friend/colleague/kinda boss decided to go. Off she went, into the darkness, armed with nothing but her intellect and her tiny hands...

And that's when I woke up. I'll never know if she came back alive, with or without the bike, or if she ended up paralysed, entrapped in a web cocoon like Frodo, under the slavering jaws of a thousand prickly beasts. If you'd like to finish the story, fell free to use the comments box, if there is one.

The second dream was a bit more family friendly, except for the beginning. It started with a boy at youth group writing something extremely rude on a bit of paper. I can't really remember what but, oh, it was awful. So, as the leader, I asked the culprit to own up, and he did, so I told him off. But as I was telling him off, his mum came to pick him up and she got cross that I was telling him off. So we argued, with me pointing out that he'd owned up and it was REALLY rude, but we went back and forth and in the end, the only way to settle it was for me to race the boy on some weird virtual floating Tron version of Scalextrics. I was winning the whole way, but flew off the track at the last minute (stupid Scalextrics). So the kid won, and that meant his mum had won the argument. But then I said "I won", and she said "you can't do that!" To which I said "Well if he can be bad, I can be bad," and left the room.


That's what happens when you mess with church youth group leaders.

 And everyone cheered. What a great dream.


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